Never
by Subject 0
Summary: A daughter, a mother, and one last conversation. Though her Code forbade her from further contact, it could never forbid her love. One-shot.


**Never**

* * *

><p><em>Incoming transmission, would you like to patch it through?<em>

_Redirecting…_

_Redirecting…_

"Well, look at this," she whispered airily, her eyes passing over the transparent blue hologram. She reclined on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, her hands gathered comfortably on her lap. The image of another asari slowly came to life, pixel by pixel. Her lips curved, a wicked smile adorning her features. "I didn't expect _you _to be contacting me. _Mother_." Her words dripped with venomous spite.

Samara stared emotionlessly at her daughter, not a single muscle on her face moving. Standing nobly with her hands on the small of her back, her shoulders lowered and her head raised higher, she said in a flat voice, "Morinth – you must listen to me. My Code will only permit me to speak with you once, but just this once."

She narrowed her eyes on her mother's hologram. Even now the woman had to feign that damn nonchalant attitude of hers. Morinth felt feelings boiling beneath her skin, but kept herself in check. For the moment. "So, the rumors are true. You've become a justicar. How quaint," she muttered sarcastically. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forwards, closer to the image of her mother. "I'm_ listening_."

Samara's face remained indifferent, not a single wrinkle added to her complexion. As if she was not moved in the slightest to seeing her youngest daughter. "Morinth, you are wanted by all of asari space. The crimes you have committed are unforgivable. Stealing, kidnapping, arson, treason, and _murder._ As a justicar, I am compelled to offer you a final ultimatum: live your life in seclusion or you will die."

Silence.

"That's a pretty confident attitude," Morinth spat. "What's my _crime_? Being _born _with the gifts you gave me?"

"Morinth, do not speak to me in that tone," she countered, a motherly inflection to her voice. "Though I am your mother, I will not hesitate to end this conversation and hunt you."

"Jeez, talk about a stick up your ass," she mumbled half-heartedly. "Is it so wrong to use my power to the best of its abilities?"

"No, it is wrong to abuse your power to satisfy your_ twisted urges_." Samara's formal posture began to dissipate as she brought her hands to her sides. "The asari offered you a comfortable life of solitude. You denied it. I am offering it to you once more. This is a second chance to…"

"To what?" Morinth rudely interrupted. "A second chance to live in isolation? You might as well call it prison. You know what it's like for an Ardat-Yakshi. Because I am different, I am condemned. _Truly_ it is justice."

Samara ignored her daughter's dripping sarcasm. "Isolation is better than death. You will _live. _You can still find happiness and -"

"No, I won't be happy. _You _will." Morinth drummed her fingers against the arm of her couch and snarled, "It'll give you closure knowing that your _precious little daughters _are cooped away from society, unable to speak with, touch, or hurt anyone." She shook her head in disgust. "Are you so blind, mother? We won't be living lives. We'll just be existing. Have you even _spoken _to Falere or Rila? Have you even asked them how they felt?"

"I know they are content with their lives."

"How can you know?" Morinth retaliated. "You've never talked to them about their feelings! You never asked them how they felt about it! You just offered them life or death!" She stopped herself, then breathed in, trying to gain control of her emotions. Letting out a deep sigh, she continued, "Well, since you became a justicar, you must have taken the _Oath of Solitude_. Am I right?"

Samara's chest swelled. "Yes, I have."

More fuel to the fire. "So you've foresworn all contact with them forever. They'll _never _hear your voice again. They'll _never _see you again. They're as good as _dead _to you, and you're good as dead to them. Face it. You became a justicar out of your own _selfish desire _for peace of mind."

"I _became_ a justicar to give you this final offer, Morinth," Samara replied, her voice rising in volume. "I knew that you would be tracked down and killed otherwise. I became a justicar to give you your last chance at redemption, at _salvation_. I wish for you to live, I wish for it more than anything in the galaxy, but I am now sworn to a Code. If I cannot persuade you, I must hunt you."

"Then come and get me. I didn't do _anything _wrong. I did _everythin_g right. I was obedient, subservient, submissive. I sat there and nodded my head whenever you talked. I did everything you told me to do. Yet still that wasn't good enough, was it mother?"

"Morinth..."

"You still thought I was a _mistake! _You still think so right now, don't you! I inherited your gifts, I _used _your gifts!"

"Morinth!"

"I did everything you wanted and more! Why can't you see that it's not my fault? It's _yours!"_

**"Enough, Morinth!**" she yelled, the sheer force of her voice causing a ripple of static through her holographic image. "I will not ask again!" There was an overarching silence, followed by her voice as she softly asked, "Will accept my offer?"

Morinth glared solemnly at her mother. Her hate had built to its peak. She couldn't even bring herself to tell her mother she abhorred her. Her lips slowly opened and she whispered, "I'm sure Falere and Rila would be proud of what you've become, mother. A _monster._" The Ardat-Yakshi moved to disable her end of the connection.

Those last words struck her by surprise. She put a hand to her chest. It felt as if a dagger had been lodged into her sternum, an immense pain building within her heart. Summoning what was left of her courage, she called, "Mirala..."

Morinth stopped the second she her that name, her finger hovering over the power button. "... Mother?"

A pause.

"_I love you_. I have always loved you with all my heart, my little, bright star. My _child. _I will _never_ stop loving you."

Morinth's chest had suddenly numbed, and it felt like her throat was being torn out. She looked solemnly at her mother with an expression of guilt and hate. She inhaled and sounded like she was going to start a sentence, but drew her breath short. Her hologram abruptly vanished.

The last flicker of her image disappeared, and Samara exhaled, her eyes shutting. Was she younger, she would have cried. But despite the stirring in her soul, she maintained her soft equanimity.

Now there was no other choice. As a justicar, she had a sworn duty to uphold the law – even if that meant killing her own daughter.

Her own beloved daughter.

_Her Mirala_.

She stood up without a word and headed to her ship, an emptiness to her step.


End file.
